Work Text:
It is known as cute aggression—that harmless impulse to squeeze, bite, or hug something or someone we perceive as utterly adorable, without any real intention of causing harm.
Hugo had never felt anything remotely like it, as his usually calm demeanor didn't give much ground to overwhelming sensations. For him, everything had a rational explanation and therefore (mostly) rational reactions.
But this got complicated when he met *him*.
In the first place, he hadn't felt anything until he saw him in a not-so-football-related setting. Everyone had been invited to a certain party, or something that looked like a party; and there he was.
The clothes he wore were slightly too big for his body, probably thanks to the oversize style he used. Meanwhile, Hugo was simply... very ordinary in his attire. Long sleeves, jeans, sneakers. He was so spoiled by the phrase "Everything looks good on you" that it stuck in his brain, and now it was very rare to see him dressed up. But he burned this detail into his mind because it wasn't that Yoichi was exaggeratingly short; Hugo recognized that he was simply very tall in comparison. More so due to his thick and broad build, which also differed from the shorter boy.
He burned that detail into his mind because the image his brain received upon seeing him looking a bit smaller through the optical illusion of the larger clothes caused him what, from here to China, was pure cuteness. Hugo recognized it, even with the internal embarrassment.
From afar, he watched him laugh and converse. In these types of conventions, some used their translator devices and others didn't; but because of Hugo's need for understanding, he certainly used them. And listening to the well-received and interpreted voice of the Japanese boy, laughing and looking at everyone with those big blue eyes with so much happiness, caused him... a sensation of wanting to squeeze him.
He felt himself blush a little, timidly lowering his gaze toward the glass of soda he was drinking. It wasn't as if he were alone, but he felt that way; he was surrounded by people and could only fix his eyes on Isagi.
When he smiled, his cheeks looked softer and fluffier. And even though he smiled from ear to ear, his eyes were so adorable that they couldn't close completely unless he did so by his own choice.
Ah... how cute. He wanted to gently bite his cheeks and cuddle him to death.
But that night, out of mere shyness and inexperience with that kind of approach and feelings, the redhead didn't have the courage to step forward.
Another of the many occasions when that incipient need to squeeze him occurred—thanks to dopamine overload—was at a moment when both had already started talking. It wasn't that fluid, they just weren't mortal enemies anymore. They could hold a great conversation, and Hugo enjoyed every single time he saw that beautiful smile being directed at his person. He blushed, very slightly, every time that happened. But his immutable expression was what helped him hide it.
That and the fact that nobody would believe Hugo had serious control issues to keep from jumping and hugging Isagi Yoichi until suffocating him. And to make matters worse (or better, depending on the angle from which Hugo viewed it), the more they talked, the more feelings he developed and the more cuteness grew inside him upon seeing him. The urge to kiss him until he said 'enough!' between laughs and blushes, to watch him kick his feet when he lifted him in his arms just to hug him. To sleep bundled up and, besides the blanket, Hugo being able to blanket him with his own body.
Yoichi was too cute in every aspect. So at that moment, Hugo (a serious, analytical man) felt for Isagi (a very pure ray of light) a little (too much) love.
That day, they were sharing a hotel due to life's circumstances. Japan on one side and France on the other, completely opposite. So it was strange, even knowing the presence of the other team, to coincide either way.
He had gone out for a walk late, just to be in silence and think, and suddenly he saw him from afar struggling to put something in its place. He regulated his pace, making it lighter and therefore making the sound of his footsteps less noticeable, and with his hands in his pockets, he watched him with curiosity.
He wanted to place (for some strange reason) a pair of suitcases in a locker that was high up for him. Not exaggeratingly high, but enough to struggle with lifting and arranging something heavy like luggage.
Hugo is rational. Everyone knows it. He himself knows it. But seeing Yoichi's stretched feet, while making a concentrated grimace and trying as best as he could to arrange his luggage (he's succeeding but stumbling in the process), shrinks his heart.
Without stopping to think, and in an almost rushed manner, Hugo positions himself behind him and, as if he weighed nothing, lifts him by placing his hands under his arms. The Japanese boy is startled, but seeing out of the corner of his eye that it is him (a sideways, curious gaze and blushed cheeks as Hugo himself can predict), he smiles. That beautiful smile that melts his soul. He understands tacitly that he is helping him without him saying a word and, now at the right height, finishes the task.
Upon lowering him, Hugo puts on his earbuds and is more than ready to listen to that voice.
— Wow, thanks! The rest of the lockers are taken and that was the only one available. Unfortunately, I couldn't reach it well and I was already making... a fool of myself —the dark-eyed boy watches with his heart melting at the beautiful way an embarrassed Yoichi lowers his head and gently scratches his already pink cheeks.
He wants to eat him up. Even if his face expresses absolutely nothing.
— It's nothing.
Hugo doesn't want to sound so dry; he's simply so distracted that he can't think of much. He lets himself drown so deeply in the other's blue gaze that he stays there, absorbed, and his great clumsiness when facing romantic matters (it's his first) doesn't help him.
But Isagi is someone who, apparently, can spark a conversation even with a stone.
— Besides, it makes me a bit embarrassed to think I'm so easy to carry. Do I not weigh anything at all?
Oh, that.
—... I simply have an advantageous physique. I train with the care of the best and I am large. Logically, carrying you is not a great physical effort for me, as I subject myself to greater efforts every day.
*The effort of not cuddling you,* he thinks distractedly, clenching his fists inside the pockets of his tracksuit pants. His neck hurts a bit (from looking down), but for the sake of seeing that cute face, he cares little to nothing.
Yoichi lets out a nervous laugh.
— Wow, that's even more embarrassing.
Suddenly, the silence returned once more. Hugo could say his only discomfort was being unable, in his shyness, to keep the conversation going. He can see how the shorter boy seems to make the motion to simply leave, but something possesses him.
He swears something possesses him. He, who seeks logic, thinks that.
Or it was just an impulse. Because now, unable to contain himself, he hugs Isagi before the boy can even turn around and leave. It's obvious the shorter boy is shocked and surprised, as he doesn't respond right away and lets out a sound of confusion, but the redhead cannot pull away. He is soft and as warm as a marshmallow. Hugo deepens this hug when he feels Yoichi reciprocate after the initial shock, and he can only melt more and more. He squeezes him against himself while, due to the position, he inhales the clean scent of the black hair.
— Why?—
— I like you.
Hugo squeezes him tighter out of nervousness, also unable to detach his face from his fluffy hair and face him out of the embarrassment of his pitiful confession. Until Isagi gives desperate pats on his back.
— Hugo, can't breathe—
The Frenchman pulls back, startled, with those dark eyes wide open and his eyebrows raised.
— I'm sorry, are you okay?
— Yes, it's just that you are very strong.
Yoichi laughs while the redhead observes that more pronounced blush. So cute. He is about to escape from his apparently failed confession, but he hears something.
—... I like you too.
The taller boy stares at him, surprised. His eyebrows are still raised and everything, and he felt his jaw drop to the floor. But then... he smiles. It's soft (as he usually only smiles that way) and he seeks the shorter boy's arms again.
He hugs him again, but this time the hug even lifts the shorter boy off the ground. As if he were a simple plushie, he carries him in his embrace, and Hugo gently rubs his cheek against that of the blue-eyed boy, who can only laugh hysterically in a mix of nerves and embarrassment.
— So soft. I've been wanting to hug you for a long time.
He likes the feeling so much, it's adorable. He wants to squeeze him until marking his arms on the Japanese boy's skin. He looks into his eyes, still carrying him in his arms.
— It's hard for me not to want to squeeze you.
The other occasions have been during their relationship. They aren't a very public relationship, but not private either. Although it gave more than one person a heart attack upon finding out, the redhead didn't care.
— You're dating him?!
It was the usual question from anyone. Hugo would just look at them with his current critical expression and, without further ado, affirm it.
But in private, it was a different thing. Hugo knew they teased Yoichi because they innocently thought *he* was the clingy one. A false assumption, since they only said that due to the usually expressionless face of the taller boy.
— Hugo...
Bed. He had him in his arms, squeezing him with a strength he tries to control just so he won't hurt his boyfriend. Hugo kisses his nape and his cheeks repeatedly, unable to control himself. He rubs his cheeks against his again while Yoichi melts into laughter. He nibbles him very slightly, the graze of teeth over skin. He gives him affectionate hickeys on his shoulder.
He gently grazes the tip of his nose against the curve of his partner's neck. He squeezes him closer against his body, and his boyfriend slowly melts into a puddle of love that just enjoys his pampering.
— Je t'aime.
The shorter boy blushes and kisses him. They get tangled among the sheets and become a murmur of love and kisses of two teenagers in love. Hugo observes those big blue eyes, bites his cheeks, and kisses the tip of his nose.
And he smiles at him with fond tenderness, pressing his forehead against that of his cute boyfriend.
— Okay, stop it!
Yoichi says through laughter, red up to his ears and putting his hands on Hugo's face to playfully push him away.
For Hugo, it is impossible to keep his impulses to pamper him at bay.